


What Happens in Vegas

by ManicMidnight13



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Las Vegas, M/M, Poor, Rich - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-04 08:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13360605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManicMidnight13/pseuds/ManicMidnight13
Summary: A spontaneous trip to Vegas ends with Kris waking up married to Chanyeol, but neither of them remembers how it happened. Agreeing that the marriage is completely unjustified and willing to get a divorce once they return to their home state, it appears as though everything will return to normal. However, their worlds are turned upside down when Chanyeol returns home to find that his belongings have been cast out on the street and an eviction notice has been pinned to his front door. With nowhere else to go, he has no choice but to move in with the man he unknowingly married in Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas...right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A tale of rich and poor. 
> 
> This idea came to me while watching What Happens in Vegas, but it doesn't follow that story. 
> 
> I'm not sure when I'll be updating this as I am very busy and have other fics to be working on as well but I'll hopefully update at least once a month, but I make no promises. More tags to be added as chapters are uploaded, I don't want to spoil anything!

They say, ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’. The implications being that you can do whatever you want out there and none of it will follow you home. However, that isn’t always the case - as this story will tell you - and sometimes the consequences of your actions bring with a whole new load of problems. It can be said that all problems have a solution, much like every action must have an equal and opposite reaction, but for the protagonist of this story, things happened very differently. 

Six months before his twenty-eighth birthday and three weeks after his older sister had gotten married, Kris had his parents blowing up every one of his social media accounts and electronic devices asking when he was going to ‘find a nice woman and get married’, because he ‘wasn’t getting any younger’ and he had to ‘set an example’, whatever that meant. Blocking his parents on Facebook and ignoring their calls for the fifth consecutive day that week apparently wasn’t enough for them to get the message that Kris wanted to be left alone. Eventually, his remedy was to ‘accidentally’ drop his phone in the pool when tidying away the floats and rearranging the beanbags. He’d buy a new one when he went shopping on Monday, eleven o’clock sharp. 

Monday was two days away, and he knew that not having a phone for two days would cause problems with work, so he ventured into the study like he usually did every morning and took out the spare he had stored away in the top drawer of his desk. His clients knew that if he didn’t answer a text or call within ten minutes, to ring his other number instead. The number he referred to as his ‘safety’ number, though his best friend preferred to refer to it as his ‘my-parents-are-on-my-ass-again’ number. 

After turning it on, he slipped the phone into his pocket and went to the kitchen to fix himself something to eat before he properly started the day. He had only one booking for the day, which was an hour car journey from his house. Little girls birthday parties were some of the more challenging bookings he received, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy them. Not to mention that parents paid a lot of money for him to photograph their children. 

Kris had gained quite a reputation for himself. He’d been interested in photography since he was in middle school, and after graduation, he’d taken it up professionally. Photographing everything from farm animals in drag to senior proms, he’d built up quite a portfolio, and the way his phone was constantly buzzing with calls, texts, and emails, it wasn’t hard to believe that he was the most popular photographer in California. 

Finishing off his breakfast, he washed his bowl and put it away - the third cupboard on the left, above the sink - and went to the spare bedroom. That was where he kept all of his camera equipment; different lenses were evenly spread across the bed in their separate cases, his cameras set out on the dresser by the door, and his multitude of props and lighting equipment stood neatly in the corner. Everything in his house had a place because that made it easier to find things, though apparently his housekeeper hadn’t quite got the message. There were only so many times he could change the toilet paper round to the correct direction before he went mad. 

Picking up the Canon camera on the end of the dresser, and the EF 85mm lens from the middle of the bed, he put them in his bag before picking up a few props from the corner. From his experience, children loved playing with anything that lit up, glowed, or was brightly coloured, and rich kids were no exception. Colourful flower crowns, several tubes of glow sticks, and a few bags of glitter went into his bag, and with that, he was ready to go. 

 

 

The clients' house was one he’d been to before. The only difference being that, the previous time he’d been, he’d been doing a wedding photoshoot for the parents. The two of them had paid him quite a large sum for that shoot, so he wasn’t complaining. After parking his car next to the black BMW, he rang the doorbell and waited. A few moments later the door opened to reveal a woman - probably in her mid to late thirties - wearing a knee-length floral dress and four inch, leopard print high heels. Ruby coloured lips smiled at him in greeting, and a wave of the hand invited him in. Kris did not need directions as he made his way through to the large conservatory. The sound of the kids running around in the garden caught his attention as he put his things down on the bamboo furniture. Glancing out of the open French doors, Kris counted a grand total of twenty children; there were more girls than boys, but in his experience girls were much harder to photograph. 

The woman who’d greeted him before came by with a tray of biscuits and beverages a few minutes later. Mrs. Bloom was her name. She was the mother of twin girls, and today was their eighth birthday. 

“Hope you’re ready for some madness,” she said, picking up a biscuit and taking a bite. “The girls have invited their entire class to their party.”

Kris smiled at her as he fixed the lens to his camera. “I’m always ready, Mrs. Bloom.”

“Please, call me Mary.” 

Like a herd of sheep, the kids came running into the conservatory when Mary announced that there were biscuits on the table. Kris had to watch his feet as he backed up against the wall. It would be easy to step on tiny feet with them all crowding around him, trying to get their hands on a biscuit before they ran out. Kris knew there was enough for everybody. Mrs. Bloom never ran out of biscuits. 

Once everyone had two biscuits each, Mrs.Bloom herded them over to the left side of the conservatory where a number of boxes had been set up. Though Kris had been hired to shoot the kids while they were playing outside, Mrs.Bloom wanted a few groups shots to put in the twins’ photo album. She had been taking photographs of her children since the day they were born and had been compiling a photo album of all their achievements and birthdays, which she intended to gift to them on their eighteenth birthday. Kris thought it was a sweet idea and was more than happy to help. 

The twins - Ellie and Evie - sat on the large box in the middle while their friends sat, stood, and kneeled around them. A few of the girls caused a fuss because they both wanted to be next to Ellie, but only one of them could stand next to her. Kris could tell that there were going to be tears if he didn’t defuse the situation, so once everyone else was settled he suggested that one of them stand behind Ellie, and the other stand next to her, that way both of them could be next to her without fighting about it. 

Kris hadn’t noticed that all the children were wearing something purple until they were all in position. The twin girls were wearing purple dresses, so Kris assumed that they had decided that purple would be the colour scheme. He did note, however, that none of the other girls were wearing a purple dress. They were all either wearing a purple ribbon or purple shoes. Much like a wedding where you mustn’t take attention away from the bride and groom, party guests must not take attention away from the birthday girls. Mrs. Bloom assisted in handing out flower crowns to most of the girls, and handing out glow sticks to everybody for some dark shots later on. 

Around one hundred photos later, Mrs. Bloom was satisfied with what she saw. There were plenty of photographs for her to choose from, all of which would be digitally enhanced at no extra cost once she’d picked the ones she liked. Kris helped her load the photos onto her computer so she could take her time with choosing, and told her to email him with which ones she wanted. She told him that the money would be in his account later that day, and with that Kris gathered up his equipment and bid goodbye to Mrs. Bloom and the kids before taking his leave. 

 

The shoot had taken the best part of four hours, and by the time Kris got home his stomach was craving something savoury after eating nothing but biscuits and ice cream most of the day. Trying to organise twenty kids and get them to stay still long enough for them to have their photo taken had been exhausting, to say the least. Dropping his equipment back in the spare room, he wandered into the kitchen in search of food, only to jump at the sight of a figure sitting on the countertop eating cereal. 

“Joon, you scared me.” Kris hissed. The figure - Joonmyun - laughed.

“Come on, you know I sometimes pop by.” He replied, amused. 

“Sometimes?”

Joonmyun was right. More often than not he would turn up unannounced and help himself to the contents of Kris’s kitchen cupboards. Kris didn’t mind, but after a long day, all he wanted to do was run a bath and then go to bed. Joonmyun’s presence put a spanner in the works. 

“What are you here for?” Said Kris, as he pulled out a packet of ramen from the cupboard, filled a pan with water and placed it on the stove. Something quick and easy.

Joonmyun put the bowl down and turned to his friend. “You’re using your emergency phone,” he began, “what happened this time?” 

Oh, that. “My parents are on my ass about getting married again.” 

“You haven’t told them you’re not into girls yet, have you?” 

Kris wrinkled his nose, “God no, they’d have a fit. They already disapprove of me having a job outside of their expectations, if they found out I didn’t like women they’d disown me.” 

The water began to boil. He tore the ramen packet open with his teeth and put it in the pan before tossing the packet in the bin. 

“Sounds like you need a getaway.” Joonmyun piped up. Kris raised an eyebrow.

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Well,” Joonmyun began, “where in the world can you get absolutely shit faced, forget all your troubles, and not worry about anything while having a blast?”

Kris had to think for a moment because his mind was thinking about all the clients he had to deal with in the coming weeks and all the deadlines he had to meet for getting photos printed and sent off, but it all hit him when Joonmyun pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it to him. Kris caught the red and white gambling chip in his hand, and his eyes suddenly lit up in realisation. 

“Vegas?” He mumbled.

Joon nodded. “Vegas.” 

* * *

 

Any questions hit me up on [Ask.fm](https://ask.fm/ManicMidnight13)!

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The clock on the wall was taunting him. The watch on his wrist was taunting him. The sound of people outside enjoying their day was also taunting him, and it was only ten o’clock in the morning. 

For what could only be the thirtieth time in the past half an hour, Chanyeol gazed out of the shop window in longing, wishing he could be out there enjoying the sun rather than waiting to serve the non-existent customers. Business was slow, and there really wasn’t any need for Chanyeol to even be there, but his boss had insisted on him coming in on his day off because Sehun apparently wasn’t feeling well. Chanyeol wouldn’t have complained, but he wasn’t even getting paid for it. The only reason he’d agreed to come in was that his boss had threatened to fire him if he didn’t, and he desperately needed this job, no matter how little it paid. The bills weren’t going to pay themselves, and he was already a month behind on rent. 

Letting out a sigh as yet another potential customer passed by without even looking in the window, he wondered if both his watch and the clock were wrong and it was in fact lunchtime. With nobody there to chastise him, he took out his phone to see if the time on his phone was any different. Much to his dismay, it wasn’t. His battery - much like his motivation level - was also low. Brilliant. 

 

 

Nobody was around and his boss had nipped out to run a few errands - experience told Chanyeol that errands usually meant hookups - so he had the place to himself. Leaving his position behind the counter he wandered over to the window. He enjoyed people watching. Saturdays were the best days to people watch, especially if the sun was out. Young children being dragged around the shops by their parents, teenagers loitering outside the grocery store across the street, and a verbal fight between a man and a woman was all the street had to offer today. Aside from the fight, nothing interesting was happening - at least, nothing that would get him through the next six hours without him wanting to die right there. 

Half an hour passed by very slowly. Nothing very exciting was happening outside, so Chanyeol decided to walk around the store and rearrange the figurines again. Nobody had been in the shop since Thursday. Sehun hadn’t touched any of the stock, nothing had been moved, but Chanyeol had to at least pretend he was doing something. Rearranging stock would occupy him for a little while. 

Sixteen dancing mice on the top shelf, arranged in alphabetical order of which dance they were performing. Chanyeol’s favourite was the ballerina. On the second shelf, was statues of various animals - again in alphabetical order. Chanyeol did wonder why the store only had one shelf of animals in drag, but then again he didn’t really care. All he had to do was scan the barcodes on the bottom and take money from people, not give them a history lesson. 

A grand total of twenty minutes had passed once Chanyeol had rearranged, repositioned, and checked all the stock the shop contained, and still, not a single customer had bothered to come in. To be fair to them, if he didn’t work in the shop he wouldn’t have ever ventured in there either. He had no interest in the stock, nor the people who worked there. Today was definitely going to be a long day.

 

 

Chanyeol was right. It felt like it had been a week since he’d left home when Chanyeol finished for the day. His boss hadn’t even bothered to stop by to say he could go, but he couldn’t have clocked out early because besides his boss being tight when it came to money, he definitely wasn’t above installing a CCTV camera to watch his only two employees, one that could see the clock on the wall. Chanyeol would not have gotten away with leaving early even if he’d tried. 

Stumbling through the bland, wooden door of his small, one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building that was probably built sometime in the eighteen hundreds, Chanyeol dumped his bag down in the hall and went straight to the bathroom. He flicked on the shower and grabbed a clean towel from the linen cupboard before removing his clothes and stepping into the hot stream. Washing away the grime of the day always brightened his mood somewhat, but Chanyeol’s next thought went to what he was going to eat for dinner. Had he been shopping recently?

After throwing on a clean T-shirt and a pair of shorts, he made his way towards the kitchen in hopes of finding something that would keep him going until he could go shopping in the morning. His fridge held leftovers from last night, and his cupboards harboured a few boxes of crackers and a can of soup that had been there since he’d moved in. Leftovers sounded the most appealing, despite it being a child-sized portion. 

Just as the microwave pinged, there was a knock on the front door, followed by the sound of the door opening and footsteps coming down the hall. Chanyeol already knew who it was before the owner of said footsteps came waltzing into the kitchen with Chanyeol’s mail tucked under his arm. 

“Leftovers again, huh?” Baekhyun gestured to the bowl Chanyeol was removing from the microwave. “You have a lot of mail.” 

“I know, I left it by the door because I didn’t want to acknowledge it,” Chanyeol said matter of factly. The meal in front of him smelt good, but he knew it wouldn’t completely fill him.

“Yeol, you can’t ignore bills forever.” Baekhyun muttered, “When was the last time you went shopping?” 

Chanyeol thought about it and realised he hadn’t bought fresh food in almost a week. “Last Sunday?”

“What did you buy?” 

“Rice, ramen, I think I bought a couple of apples too.” 

Baekhyun sighed in response. Chanyeol knew why; he was worried about his health. Chanyeol barely had enough money to pay his bills, let alone eat properly. His job paid minimum wage and his apartment was ridiculously overpriced for what he got. He’d had many disputes with his landlord about his rent, as well as a number of other things that needed fixing or replacing. A human had a right to a home that wasn’t infested with bugs. 

“Listen, Sarah’s uncle is getting married so she’s going away for the weekend next week with the kids. They’re travelling to Michigan on Thursday but I can’t go because of work, so I was wondering if you wanted to go on a trip with me that weekend.” 

Chanyeol tilted his head. “You can’t go to your wife’s uncle’s wedding because you’re working but you can go on a trip with me?” 

“Well, I can’t travel with them, and to be quite frank I don’t want to go,” Baekhyun admitted. “You look like you could use a break.” 

“What do you have in mind?” 

Baekhyun had a twinkle in his eye. “Ever been to Vegas?”

Oh, Vegas?

“No, I can’t afford to go there.” He answered simply. It was true, Vegas was expensive. 

“Well, grab your passport because we’re going next weekend, my treat.” 

Vegas might just be the break Chanyeol needs. 

 

* * *

 

_Just a note, if you want to refer to me by name, I would prefer to be called Alex :3_

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Kris was worried about keeping his new phone number secret from his parents from the moment he got it, and only when he and Joon were boarding the plane at LAX did he relax. Joonmyun had been reassuring him that his parents wouldn’t be able to get hold of him this time, but the worry was still there. They’d somehow got his number without him even telling them. It was as if they’d hired the FBI to track him down. Luckily for him, this phone had been altered by a close friend of Joon’s. If his parents tried to call him, it would go straight to voicemail. 

The two of them slept the entire flight to Vegas, arriving early afternoon on Friday. Joon had his head on Kris’s shoulder when he woke up shortly before landing, earning him some funny looks from the flight attendants when the passengers started to disembark. Kris had left his work at home and was ready to enjoy the weekend with Joon, even if it did mean spending more money on alcohol than he cared to think about and potentially picking up some unwanted attention despite the fact that he clearly wasn’t interested. 

One thing was clear though, and that was that Joonmyun was insistent on making his best friend forget about all his troubles. 

The two of them were hopping into a taxi and on the way to the hotel Joonmyun had picked before either of them spoke.

“You are not allowed to answer any calls, texts, or emails related to work,” Joonmyun informed him as he took Kris’s phone from him, “and if your parents somehow get hold of this number I’ll throw it in the fountain.”

Kris had no doubt that he would. 

When they arrived at the hotel, they checked in and went straight up to the room. Kris had suggested that they both go and grab a bite to eat before they start the night as neither of them had eaten anything since before the flight. Airplane food was not their taste. 

Joonmyun had booked them the penthouse suite in one of the nicest hotels in Vegas, insisting that they go for the full experience and not worry about the money. Not that either of them had anything to worry about coming from rich families. 

The room consisted of a king sized bed with large ensuite bathroom, golden bedsheets and large windows that looked out across the strip. A bottle of champagne lay in an ice bucket on the varnished table, next to a box of expensive chocolates. No doubt they would be tucking into them sometime soon. 

Kris threw his bag down on the chair near the window and all but flopped onto the bed while Joonmyun retired to the bathroom to have a quick shower. The bed was one of the most comfortable beds Kris had ever laid on, but he could enjoy it later when they returned at whatever ridiculous time in the morning. Right now he needed set out his outfit and pour them both a glass of champagne. 

Joonmyun came out of the bathroom ten minutes later wearing a shirt that could only have been taken from his dad’s closet, and a pair of skinny jeans that made his legs look skinnier than they already were.  

“Nice shirt,” Kris commented as he took a sip of champagne, “how are you intending to pull wearing that?” 

Joon scoffed, “Ha ha, I don’t intend to.” 

Champagne in hand, Joonmyun wandered over to the window and surveyed the view. Subconsciously he was mapping out which bars they would be going to, all of which he’d set up tabs for before leaving his house earlier that day. The tabs were enough to make any poor person cry. 

The next couple of days would certainly be interesting.

 

* * *

 

“Baekhyun, how on Earth did you afford this place?” Chanyeol exclaimed as he threw open the hotel room door. 

The corridors were lined with leopard print carpets and shiny gold wallpaper. Potted plants on every corner beside vast windows that overlooked the strip, Chanyeol could not believe what he was seeing. 

Golden bedsheets on the largest bed Chanyeol had ever seen was the most exciting part for him, and really differed from the single bed he had at home; which was in dire need of a new mattress. The view from the windows wasn’t half bad either, and the more Chanyeol looked around the room the more he realised that this was what money could get you. Where it could get you. Baekhyun wasn’t exactly Scrooge McDuck, but he wasn’t far off in Chanyeol’s eyes. 

“You needed a break,” Baekhyun answered, throwing his bag down on the chair by the plasma screen. “you deserve this.” 

“What’s the plan?” Chanyeol questioned, throwing himself down on the bed. “Can I take this home with me?”

Baekhyun snorted, “Shower, relax for a bit, then hit the bars. I’ve planned it all out with the intention that you aren’t going to remember anything past leaving the hotel.” 

“Sounds fun,” the taller muttered, “do you want to shower first?” 

Baekhyun nodded. He took a minute to unpack his bag and take out his choice of outfit before heading off to the bathroom, leaving Chanyeol to look around the room some more. A corded phone lay on the left bedside table beside a menu for room service. A vase of pink flowers on the table by the window added vibrant colour to the room, a sharp contrast to the white wallpaper and golden bedsheets. 

This room would be his home for the next couple of days, and he couldn’t have asked for more. He did wonder one thing though, that of which he voiced when Baekhyun came out of the bathroom ten minutes later. 

“What did you tell my boss?” He said.

“I told him you had a family emergency,” Baekhyun said simply. 

“What about if he sees pictures? He’ll know-“

“Don’t worry about that, our phones aren’t leaving the room, nor are they being switched on. No pictures, no phone calls, nothing that would raise suspicion as to where you are.” 

Baekhyun really had thought of everything, and Chanyeol couldn’t wait to get out on the strip. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

_Chanyeol and Kris will meet in the next chapter :3_

[Ask.fm ](https://ask.fm/ManicMidnight13) 

[Twitter](https://twitter.com/ManicMidnight13)

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chanyeol had never seen so many people enjoying themselves all at once before. It was as if people didn’t have a care in the world as he watched couples drink their weight in cocktails, youngsters who had more than likely only just came of age dancing around and drinking till they could no longer stand, and for the first time in more than four years Chanyeol was actually loving life. 

A glass being shoved into his hand brought him out of his trance. He hadn’t even realised Baekhyun had gone to the bar. He did, however, notice that Baekhyun was fiddling with something in his hand and was quick to point it out.

Baekhyun smirked, “Ever played ‘Save the Queen’?” 

Chanyeol shook his head, “No?” 

“In England, if someone throws a penny into your drink and shouts ‘Save the Queen!’ You have to down it,” 

Before Chanyeol could react, Baekhyun had already tossed the coin into his drink, and not being one to back down from a challenge he didn’t hesitate to down the entire thing. Chanyeol managed to do it in less than twelve seconds and once done he fished the coin out of his glass and chucked it in Baekhyun’s. 

“Funny,” Baekhyun muttered before downing his pint. 

“You wanted to play,” Chanyeol said, “another drink?” 

 

 

Kris wasn’t much of a drinker, but because Joonmyun had insisted on splashing the cash on him for the entire weekend he figured it would be rude not to drink everything he was handed, even if it involved shot after shot of tequila which would probably come back to haunt him later on. Joonmyun had also made him agree not to ask what the drinks were and to just go with it. The shorter clearly had the intention of getting Kris absolutely wasted, and Kris was beginning to feel his plan working as Joonmyun handed him another drink. 

“Joon, how many of these are you gonna throw at me?” His voice sounded weird to him, but the music was deafening so that was probably it. 

The shorter laughed at him, “As many as it takes to make you forget your troubles,” 

“I can’t remember…remember the last time I…drank this much,” 

“Good,” 

 

 

As the night went on it was becoming much harder for Kris to walk in a straight line as Joonmyun dragged him to the last bar of the night. The floor swayed beneath his feet as Joonmyun shoved him down onto one of the sofas in the corner. Kris hadn’t noticed the seat was occupied until it moved underneath him.

“Oh…sorry I didn’t see…you there,” Kris mumbled as he shifted his weight to the arm of the sofa. The person underneath him scooted across to the other side to allow Kris to sit on the sofa properly. 

“That’s alright,” the male responded, “do you…do you have a name?” 

“Kris, and you?”

The male smiled, “Chanyeol,”

 

 

Chanyeol doesn’t remember how he got back to the hotel. He doesn’t know what time he got back or whether or not Baekhyun came with him, but it was safe to say that when he woke up the following morning he had one hell of a hangover and no relocation of the previous night whatsoever. 

He opened his eyes, only to quickly close them again as the bright morning rays shone through the window. The light was not helping his headache, and neither was the uncomfortable urge to empty his bladder. Pushing the covers off his body, he waddled to the bathroom as quickly as he could without stumbling. Once he’d done his business he washed his hands and then reached for his toiletry bag by the side of the sink. However, his hand ghosted over the surface of the sink without finding the bag. Frowning, he looked down to see if he’d moved it the previous day. Nothing was there. 

Chanyeol then realised that the colour of the sink was completely different. This wasn’t his hotel room. 

Turning around, he walked back into the bedroom and looked over at the bed. This definitely wasn’t his hotel room, and that definitely wasn’t Baekhyun sleeping on the other side of the bed. Chanyeol’s eye caught the mirror on the wall and he suddenly became very aware that he wasn’t wearing anything but his boxers. Exactly what happened last night?

Chanyeol clenched his fists as the person in the bed began to stir. The male sat up, sporting messy bed hair, and a look that mirrored Chanyeol’s as he realised that he wasn’t alone in the room. It was then that Chanyeol felt it. The unmistakable object surrounding his left ring finger. Oh no. 

“Um,” the male in the bed began, “you’re not Joonmyun,”

“And you’re not Baekhyun,” Chanyeol responded, lifting his hand to confirm his suspicions. 

Right there on his left ring finger was a silver wedding band. 

“What happened last night?” The male said as he threw the covers back and stood up, “who are you?”

“Chanyeol, who are you?” 

“Kris,”

Something clicked in Chanyeol’s brain. From what he could remember, though very vaguely, he met this guy at the bar last night when he sat on him. His memory was filled with blank space, and he definitely didn’t remember anything past the guy sitting on him. 

“Did we get hitched last night?” Kris was the one to ask the question that Chanyeol had wanted to for a good few minutes. 

“Looks like it,” Chanyeol murmured, lifting his hand to show the ring. 

“Did we do…anything else?” 

“I don’t even remember leaving the bar, how should I know what we did last night?” 

Both males were only wearing their boxers, which had both of them wondering if they had done something more than getting hitched the previous night. Chanyeol sincerely hoped that they had used protection if they had; his eyes scanned the room for any signs of a condom wrapper. No sign of one on the bedside table, but there was a bin next to the door so it could’ve been discarded in there. He was too embarrassed to find out. 

Kris walked the short way from the bed and stopped in front of Chanyeol. He observed that Chanyeol was an inch or two shorter than him, with bright red hair, and eyes that anyone would fall in love with, in an instant, even if they didn’t know the person beforehand. He also noted that Chanyeol was rather pale, did not have any piercings, and no tattoos. 

Chanyeol observed that Kris had his ears pierced twice, light blonde hair, tanned skin, and he was sure he could see a small hip tattoo peeking out of his boxers. 

“So,” Chanyeol broke the silence, “what do we do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They've finally met!


End file.
